


Blessings and Bonuses

by Telaryn



Series: The Tale of Eliot Spencer and Ellen Harvelle [8]
Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Family, Gen, Holidays, Kissing, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot realizes he has a great deal to be thankful for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessings and Bonuses

With all the hunters and hunter wannabes standing around talking and drinking, Ellen didn’t know which was more amazing – the fact that none of them flinched when they heard the knife hit the wall in the kitchen, or the fact that she was pretty sure none of them was surprised to see Dean Winchester nearly falling over his own feet in a desperate attempt to get away from Eliot.

“Your boy’s got a temper,” Bobby noted, just as Ellen realized _which_ pie Dean was trying to escape with.

 _Hell._ “He’s been working on this meal for two days, Bobby,” she countered sharply. “He’s entitled.” Setting her cider on the bar, she strode angrily through the break in the bar. “Freeze!” she bellowed. Dean reacted immediately, turning genuinely terrified eyes in her direction. “Put one finger in that pie Dean Winchester, and I’ll feed you your balls for Thanksgiving dinner.”

She heard a scattering of laughter behind her, but didn’t take her attention off the older Winchester for a second. He was a good boy – they both were – but Dean in particular had an overdeveloped sense of mischief. _Especially when it comes to food,_ she thought, closing with him and holding out a hand for the stolen dessert.

“He threw a knife at my head!” Dean protested. “One of the big ones!”

“You’re lucky you weren’t trying that stunt with me,” she retorted, waggling her fingers to bring him back on task. “ _I_ wouldn’t have missed.”

He stared at her for a long moment, trying she knew to gauge how serious she was. Finally he sighed, passing over the stolen pastry. “I’m hungry,” he whined. “It all smells so good.”

“Go get yourself a beer and pretend you weren’t raised in a barn,” Ellen told him, her expression softening somewhat. _He’s not wrong,_ she thought, watching him go. Eliot had insisted she stay out of the kitchen while he pulled everything together, but even without seeing the results for herself Ellen was sure he’d outdone himself.

“I didn’t miss.” The man himself was standing in the open doorway when she turned back towards the kitchen, arms folded across his chest.

Now it was Ellen’s turn to throw a little mischief back into the mix. “He didn’t need to know that,” she pointed out, moving closer and passing back the miraculously undamaged pie. Eliot took it in one hand, smoothly reaching behind him into the kitchen to set it on a nearby counter. With his other hand, he gently cupped the back of Ellen’s neck, pulling her in even closer.

“I kind of like having you watch my back like that,” he murmured, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips. “Pretty hot the way you went after him.”

Ellen laughed. “Happy to help, Cowboy.” She made a small pleasure sound low in her throat as he kissed her; her skin flushing warm as her body reacted automatically to his touch. For a long moment, they were the only two people in the world…then the clapping and catcalls intruded. Laughing into the kiss, Eliot wrapped his arms more securely around her and bent her back into an over-the-top, head-spinning dip.

Ellen’s response to their audience was more direct – extending her left arm as they continued kissing, she flipped off the entire room.  
*******************  
Throwing the knife at Dean had been overkill; now that his pie had been safely recovered, Eliot could own that. It had been an impressive shot though, even by his admittedly high standards. He’d barely turned his head to make sure the blade was going to hit close enough to scare, but far enough away to guarantee no unfortunate accidents marred the day, and the knife had struck exactly where he’d aimed.

_”Is Thanksgiving a thing for you?”_

_”Not for a very long time.”_ Eliot still wasn’t completely sure whether it was the way he’d said it, or something in his expression that had prompted Ellen to continue nudging at him. It was exactly the sort of conversation he tried not to have with anyone, because it opened himself up to too many things he couldn’t change and pointless reminiscing about a past that he’d long ago accepted was destined to stay that way.

Somehow, though, sharing this part of himself with Ellen had felt good. It felt like the right thing to do, and when she suggested they host a Thanksgiving dinner at the Roadhouse for close friends and family, he’d responded with an enthusiasm that he suspected surprised them both.

“Mama said to tell you the natives are getting restless.” Jo Harvelle peeked around the corner of the kitchen entrance. She grinned when he looked at her. “Hands out of the way, not touching anything unless I have permission.”

Eliot chuckled softly. “Get Maddie and Sam in here. You three can start carrying stuff out. Tell Ellen to get everybody to the table.”

“What about Dean?” She was deliberately teasing him now. Eliot shrugged, adopting an indifferent expression.

“If he can behave himself, I’ll let him back in my kitchen. If not…” He glanced pointedly at the knife still stuck in the wall. He could still hear the echo of Jo’s laughter as he turned away to start transferring the last of the food to serving dishes.

He had a lot to be thankful for right now; top of the list was having the time and space to _be_ thankful. Every moment he had with Ellen – good, bad, or someplace in between – was a gift, and he was finally starting to feel secure enough to appreciate each of them in turn and live them to the fullest, instead of worrying about when he was going to lose them.

“Wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind about letting Bobby carve the turkey.” Ellen’s arms slid around his waist from behind. Relaxing into her embrace, Eliot covered her hands with his and leaned back to steal a kiss.

“Unless he wants me to do it, that bird and I’ve said all we need to say to each other.” Finishing up the last serving dish, he turned to face Ellen, leaning back slightly against the counter. “You good? You’ve got your thinking face going.”

Ellen’s smile widened. “Thinking face, huh? Good to know you appreciate me for more than my physical assets.”

“Well…” Smirking, Eliot trailed the tip of one finger along the curve of her breast, down into her admittedly impressive cleavage. “To be fair, the physical assets are impressive all on their own.” Ellen smacked his hand away sharply, but not before he saw her shiver under his touch. “Okay. Thinking face. What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Not sure. When the kids started bringing out the food, I guess I started wondering if I shouldn’t have pushed harder on making sure you had help?” Pausing, she reached up to smooth a stray lock of his hair behind his ear. “Now that I see you though…you’re happy, aren’t you?” She gestured around at the mess he’d made of the kitchen. “This – all this. Doing this makes you happy.”

Reaching out, Eliot caressed her hair. “You make me happy,” he said softly. “The fact that you suggested doing this, that you put up with my moods and all the weird hours this week so I could make it happen the way I wanted?” He leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek, then pressed his forehead against hers, indulging himself for a moment just breathing in the mingled scents of food and Ellen and _home_.

“Just a bonus.”


End file.
